


i sat on my hands, i don’t make a sound

by actually_ihavenoidea



Series: this is real, this is me [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: ADHD Character, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Anxiety, Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, I Had To, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I love Hinata Shoyo with my entire mind body and SOUL, I'm Sorry, Kageyama Has Depression, Living Together, Maybe - Freeform, Mental Health Issues, Self-Doubt, and they were ROOMMATES, hinata has ADHD, it’s implied, maybe a little slowburn kagehina if you squint hard enough, oh my god they were roommates, that second chapter though, whos to say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:09:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23273749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actually_ihavenoidea/pseuds/actually_ihavenoidea
Summary: "I finally understand why I've felt out of step my whole life," Hinata laughed ruefully. He was looking anywhere but Kageyama, his whole body moving slightly with every emphasis in his speech. Kageyama just listened."But it just sucks. You know?" he laughed again, squeezing his eyes shut. "Like okay. Now I know. But it doesn't fix anything. It doesn't suddenly put me in step with everyone else. It doesn't make me any less forgetful or fidgety or inattentive. It just slaps a label to it.""Do you regret getting diagnosed?" Kageyama asked when Hinata trailed off."No." His response was instant. "No, because now I can make moves to fix it. And that's great. But it doesn't take away from the fact that I am not normal. And I never will be. And I always thought I was."OR: Hinata gets diagnosed with ADHD and he's trying to understand what exactly that means. Luckily, Kageyama is always there.
Series: this is real, this is me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1676263
Comments: 12
Kudos: 120





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The world needs more ADHD Hinata.
> 
> This is entirely self indulgent and a little ooc. So sue me (pls don’t I don’t own any part of Haikyuu, I’m just a young girl who needed to vent).
> 
> Update 3/24/20: Ahahaha okay so I basically completely rewrote this. My plan was originally just to proofread it and fix some formatting, but then I decided I hated the first version. So I apologize if you read the first version and really liked it. I hope you'll read this version and like it too! (Not that many of you could have read the first version honestly. It was up less than 24 hours before I changed almost every part of it lolol). 
> 
> Title from “Airplanes” by 5 Seconds of Summer

_“Maybe you should get tested?”_

_“I’m surprised you’ve made it this far.”_

_“Yeah it was always pretty obvious.”_

_“Wait? You didn’t know before?”_

_“It’s okay, Shoyo. Now you can start working to be better.”_

Hinata’s mind raced as he thought about what his friends and family had been saying. It was all wholly unhelpful. 

He sat on the train on his way home, staring into space. His most recent life developments weighed heavily in his mind. 

The day had been unbelievably slow. That morning seemed like yesterday. It was frustrating though, because at the same time it went so fast that his 8 hour day ended in what felt like 3 hours. Exhaustion had set deep into his bones within the first hour and only continued to bury down deeper as the day went on. His very soul felt heavy. 

On top of that, he screwed things up all day. He woke up late and rushed to class, resulting in him missing his breakfast meeting with Noya. In class, he realized his notes were completely illegible and he missed huge parts of the lecture. Finally, in his haste to get to his next class, he ran into some girl and spilled her coffee. He felt so bad about it that he not only bought them another coffee, but also gave the girl his sweatshirt to cover up the brand new coffee stain on her shirt. 

Needless to say, he was ready for the day to be over. 

Technically he was supposed to go to practice in an hour, but the idea of going and being around people and hearing the loud echoes of volleyballs slamming around, sneakers squeaking, and voices echoing throughout the gym caused his already mild anxiety to spike even more. Exercising would help of course. Obviously. It always did. But he really didn’t think he’d make it through practice. 

The train stopped and he looked up ( _what stop was he at?_ ). 

As he stood on his tip toes, Hinata tried to see over the ocean of people, but there were just too many and he was simply too short and he couldn’t tell where he was. He had zoned out like an idiot and didn't count the stops, so that didn't help ( _should he just get off?_ ). 

A decision needed to be made. ( _This had to be his stop, right?_ )

In the end, anxiety beat out any other thought in his head and he squeezed his way through the mass of people and off the train.

Once off the train, Hinata felt the tension in his shoulders release a little bit. He began walking towards the exit, when he finally noticed that, no. He was not at the correct stop. In fact, Hinata, like the big old dummy he is, was 2 stops too early. He stopped in the middle of the platform and threw back his head, groaning loudly. Did he care about all the strangers who shoved passed him roughly, annoyed that he was in their way? Nope. He did not give a single fuck. Because honestly, no one, _actually, legitimately no one,_ could be more annoyed with Hinata in that moment than he was with himself.

He had been taking the train home from campus for almost a year now. He knew it was 8 stops. He knew the station name. He _knew how to get home for fuck's sake._

But, much to his chagrin he realized, this is not the first, nor the last time this was going to happen. Because, as he recently found out, this was just what happened to him sometimes. Because sometimes he couldn't focus properly on the correct things. And sometimes, he was going to get distracted and miss things he shouldn't miss. Because that's just how his brain works. 

_"Because you have ADHD,"_ the psychologist had told him, and he didn't really know how to feel about that just yet ( _Lucky him too. He has combined-type. So he's inattentive_ and _hyperactive. Isn't he just super special?_ ). 

So, he dropped his head, sighed and checked his watch. Getting to practice on time was pretty much out of the question now, seeing as he hadn’t eaten yet (he forgot), the next train wasn’t supposed to come for 15 minutes ( _that seemed like_ forever _away_ ) and he’d have to go home because his gym bag was there (again, was running late this morning and, well, forgot it). 

He sighed again, hiked up his backpack ( _which had to weigh about a thousand pounds, right?_ ), and decided to make his way to the nearest convenience store to get himself something for dinner while he waited for the next train. Kageyama _would_ be going to practice, so _he_ wouldn’t be eating dinner until later and Hinata didn’t want to wait for him ( _he should text him to let him know he wasn’t coming to practice_ ). The idea of cooking something for himself was exhausting though, so he just grabbed a frozen pizza. 

How could he fuck shit up so badly? 

( _Oh, right. ADHD. His brain didn't function normally_ ).

It was strange. This new concept. Hinata had ADHD. If he was being honest with himself, there was always something in the back of his mind telling him his brain was wired differently than his friends. ( _Things look so easy for them. Why did it feel like everything that was easy for them was always so hard for him?_ )

Like okay, he knew he was fairly intelligent, but he never seemed to be able to get stuff done unless he was really interested in it. Other people didn't have that problem. In fact, his parents and friends just wrote off his struggle and called him lazy. 

_“If you just applied yourself, you’d be so smart, Shoyo.”_

_"If you actually_ tried _to study, I'm sure you'd do well."_

_"You just don't want to do the homework, man. Don't lie."_

Every freaking time someone said that to him, Hinata questioned himself. Was he just lazy? Was he not trying to reach his true potential? Did he just not care? He thought he cared. He wanted to care. Wasn't that the same thing as caring? Bit by bit, their words, (and his resulting thoughts), chipped away at any sort of faith he had in himself. 

Hinata thought he was trying. He told his parents he was doing his best. He wanted to do well in school. Honestly. He did. But good _god._ Whenever he sat down to study it felt like his brain got stuck in quicksand and was pulling itself apart trying to get out. Every time he tried to read his textbooks or do his math homework or write an essay, that heavy feeling in his brain settled deep and it made uncomfortable tingles run through his body and he got fidgety and wanted to rip his skin off. 

But that wasn’t “normal.” So he didn’t do anything about it. He didn’t act on it. He didn’t say anything about it to anyone because everyone just thought he was lazy and didn’t want to do it. So he pushed his way through the noise and pushed down the anxiety to finish what he could until he could find relief from Heavy Brain. 

_“You can focus so well on other things. There’s no reason you can’t focus on this.”_

And that was true too, because that relief came when he could read what he wanted. Or play video games. Or watch a little anime. Or play volleyball (oh my gosh, when he found volleyball, he found an escape from his heavy brain and tingly arms). 

People gave him grief for that too. He couldn't explain it in any way other than that he enjoyed those things. And that only served to support people's theory of him being lazy.

As his doctor explained though, it wasn’t that he had a deficit focus— the name of the disorder was actually really misleading—it was that he couldn’t regulate it. That meant he had a tendency to be unable to focus on things of little interest and a tendency to actually focus _too much_ on things of interest. Like school work vs. volleyball. (This was one of the primary symptoms of Inattentive- Type ADHD). 

But hyperfocusing wasn't normal either. So again. He squashed down all his excitement and kept it to himself when he hyper focused. Usually no one wanted to listen to his long rants about whatever he was excited about anyway.

That didn’t mean he was okay with any of it though. He was tired of looking like a failure to all his friends and family. But, in ignoring those things, in squashing them down so he could present as "normal," he always ended up feeling like he was a few steps behind everyone else and no matter what he did, no matter how hard he ran, he simply couldn't catch up. Hinata knew there was something different about the way his brain was wired. 

Come to think of it, there were so many signs, actually.

Hinata talked too much ( _stop sharing so much_ ), frequently interrupted people ( _he just had to say it right then and there_ ), but had a hard time actually articulating his thoughts because his brain moved faster than his mouth could keep up with ( _please be patient while his brain buffers_ ).

His emotions were all over the place ( _He was overly excited. He was so irritable. He was too sensitive_ ).

He lost things ( _legitimately all the time_ ).

He had to have people repeat themselves all the time ( _he swore he thought he was listening_ ).

He was overstimulated ( _There was too much noise. The silence was too loud_ ).

He was under-stimulated ( _How many times had he fallen asleep in class now?_ ).

He moved too much ( _silly putty was truly his fidgety hands' best friend_ ).

Hinata stopped just outside the entrance to the train station. His brain was melting just thinking about all the obvious symptoms and he didn’t even even scratch the surface. There were _so many_. 

He was “ _obviously very ADHD”_ according to seemingly everyone he knew. Oh but they only said that after he told them he had been diagnosed. “High functioning” is what the doctor said. ( _If it was oh so obvious, why hadn't it been addressed earlier?_ )

He suppressed symptoms for so long and it made his life so hard and thus he was really hard (too hard) on himself, just to come across as “normal.” If he didn’t, everyone just made him feel like a piece of trash because of it. Or annoying. Or too much to handle. 

His hands clenched and unclenched, fingers running smoothly over his palms, as he boarded his train home, newly acquired groceries shoved in his backpack. 

It wasn’t until about 6 months after he moved to Tokyo to live with Kageyama that he realized he no longer felt like he was troubling someone just by being their friend. Kageyama didn't question him. He didn't make Hinata feel bad for little mistakes he made here and there because he just wasn't paying attention. Suprisingly, Kageyama made his life easier.

Kageyama had the idea to have a key bowl by the front door of their apartment so Hinata always knew where to put his keys and where to find his keys. The fridge was stocked with healthy, quick, food so Hinata didn’t resort to junk food when he couldn’t bring himself to cook. They had sectioned off a block of time every day to get whatever chores done they needed to (except Fridays and Saturdays, Hinata had pushed for that). Kageyama woke Hinata up when he noticed that he fell asleep with his overhead light on, still in his jeans from that day, and motivated him to get ready for bed. They studied together and took timed volleyball breaks when Hinata got too restless.

Quite frankly, Kageyama really just kept Hinata’s life together. 

Hinata hadn’t even noticed it at first—-all the little things Kageyama did to help him. When he finally realized it and asked Kageyama about it and why he put up with it. ( _How did he know those things would help?_ ) Kageyama shrugged and said “it’s just you being you. I have no problem accommodating for that” (Hinata cried when he said that. Acceptance, wow. What a new feeling).

(Emotional dysregulation: a symptom of ADHD, meaning Hinata just _felt_ things more intensely and wasn’t quite sure how to, well, regulate that).

But then the guilt set in. Kageyama went out of his way to make sure that Hinata stayed on top of things, but Hinata felt like he hardly returned the favor. Sure, he did chores every once in a while ( _when he remembered or could get himself off his ass to do them_ ). Sure, he let Kageyama work through his depressive episodes with Hinata. Sure, he bought him food sometimes and practiced volleyball with him and helped him out in social situations when things didn't go his way and he got all moody and stressed out. None of it felt like enough though. 

Kageyama was actually keeping Hinata's life in order for once and Hinata....well, Hinata was just a burdensome friend to have. 

The door opened and Hinata looked up and blinked confusedly. ( _He was home?_ ) The journey home was already gone from his mind. He sighed. (His lungs must be getting a good workout in, despite skipping practice today). 

(Trouble with working memory— which may cause this thing called "time blindness"— is also symptom of ADHD, he had learned).

Looking at his watch, he figured he had at least 2½ hours before Kageyama got home ( _did he text him to tell him he wouldn’t be at practice? He must’ve_ ). 

As he stood in the living room, he stared at the mess in their tiny apartment. He should clean it. In fact he told Kageyama he would. So he put his pizza in the freezer, dumped his backpack somewhere in the hoarder's paradise that was his room, and went back into the living room and he tried. He tried to clean like he told Kageyama he would.

But then, about 10 minutes into cleaning, he finally found that sports magazine he bought the other day. The one with the new lineup on the Japan National Team. So he read it ( _just the one article. He just wanted to see if he knew anyone_ ).

Five minutes went by before he realized he'd gotten distracted ( _oh no, oops it was actually fifteen minutes_ ) and he chastised himself and started cleaning again.

But then, he became very aware of his clothes on his body. They clung to him and the soft fabric of his t-shirt felt more like sandpaper against his skin. His jeans were tight and suffocating ( _Oh perfect. Enter: heavy brain and tingly arms_ ). After he tried resolutely to ignore it all for a grand total of five minutes ( _was it actually five minutes this time?_ ) he decided he couldn’t take it anymore and went to take a shower. 

He turned on the shower to a relatively hot temperature and stripped himself of his unbearable clothes ( _he'd been wearing them all day? What's with this all of a sudden?_ ) As he stepped into the shower and let the hot water soak his head, his body and mind relaxed significantly. 

So he sat on the shower floor and let the water run down his back, his face tucked into his knees ( _Just fifteen minutes, and then he'd get out_ ).

This whole ADHD thing was really messing with his head. Again, somewhere in the back of his mind he always knew. Really, it had just been confirmed. 

But what did that mean? It’s not like he could all of a sudden use it as an excuse when was disengaged or fell behind in class or forgot an important event. 

There was no excuse before ( _it's been twenty years_ ), so there shouldn’t be one now right? Just cause he had a new label didn’t mean he was a different person ( _right?_ ). He’d still feel guilty if his brain messed things up for him. 

It was just a reason. Not an excuse. It also meant people could write him off in a new way. 

_“He forgot his meds.”_

_“It must just be a bad day for his ADHD.”_

_“It’s just because his brain is messed up.”_

Thinking about all the new ways people could make him feel stupid weighed his brain down even more. He wanted to stop thinking about it, but he didn't feel like he had a choice.

His stomach growled in protest of its emptiness, so he got out of the shower. 

Once he was dressed, he went into the kitchen and retrieved his pizza from the freezer. Upon glancing at the oven clock, he noticed he had been in the shower for an forty-five minutes. He put his hands on the stove, threw his head back and took a deep breath to collect himself before he let his anxiety and self-deprecation get the best of him ( _hello time blindness, my old friend_ ).

He turned the oven on to preheat and made his way to the living room to wait.

The couch squeaked as he collapsed in front of the TV and put on Netflix. 

Sometime later ( _not like Hinata knew_ ), Kageyama walked into their apartment absolutely fuming. How _dare_ Hinata skip practice? And to not even send him a text explaining why? He could’ve been dead. He could’ve been hurt. And Kageyama couldn’t do anything because their coach wasn’t going to let him out of practice because of his paranoia. When he saw Hinata’s shoes by the door and heard the TV on, he was ready to tear his best friend a new one. His anger only increased when he noticed that the living room still wasn't clean

Kageyama was livid. Oh man, was he going to...well he didn't know, but boy howdy was he mad. He was gearing up to yell, but then he noticed Hinata on the couch and was stopped short. 

The normally rambunctious red head was burrito-ed in a blanket, laying on his side, staring blankly at the TV. He hadn't even taken notice of Kageyama. 

Kageyama's anger deflated like a balloon being released. _Oh,_ he thought, _bad day._ He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before preparing himself to talk to Hinata. He knew it might be tricky. When Hinata was like this, it was hard to know whether or not he was really absorbing anything being said to him. 

“Oi, dumbass,” he kicked the couch as he approached and Hinata jumped and looked at him, eyes wide and befuddled. 

“Yama? You’re not supposed to be home for like another hour,” Hinata said, keeping the blanket wrapped tight around himself as he sat up. 

_Oh. Really bad day then,_ Kageyama realized. 

Kageyama was the first person Hinata told after getting his diagnosis and boy was his friend a mess. He had tried to play it off. That it wasn't a big deal because "this is just confirmation of something I already knew, Kageyama." He wasn't sure if Hinata knew that Kageyama could see past his mask clearly. 

So, unbeknownst to Hinata, Kageyama started doing _extensive_ research on ADHD. He watched YouTube videos, read research papers, checked forums, followed social media accounts, he scoured the internet for information on this disorder. His biggest takeaway? He, along with the rest of the world, was completely ignorant to the finer nuances of this disorder. 

Because of that, Kageyama did his best to help, even if Hinata wasn't aware of it. He looked for the symptoms more carefully and tried to keep track of Hinata's triggers and distractions. Simply so he wasn't adding on to Hinata's stress. He didn't tell Hinata he was doing it. No. He couldn't. Hinata needed to figure those things out himself. It wasn't Kageyama's job to get Hinata to accept his diagnosis or learn to understand his brain. It wasn't his responsibility to make Hinata get his symptoms under control or But, he helped where he could. He was actually pleasantly surprised to find that he had unknowingly helped a lot already. 

All of his research and careful observation had made him confident that, looking at his best friend, beautiful brown eyes growing more and more confused and anxious by the moment, today had been a _bad day._

“Hinata," he sat down next to his friend, "it’s 8:00 pm.” Hinata stared at him for a second before he pulled out his phone and stared at that instead. 

Kageyama jumped when Hinata groaned loudly and tossed his head back on the couch. 

“How did _another whole hour_ pass without me realizing it?” the couch shook when he kicked his legs around. 

“Hinata, it’s fine,” Kageyama sat next to him calmly, staring at his adult friend who was indeed throwing a minor temper tantrum. 

“But I was gonna make pizza—“ Hinata griped. 

“You can still make it—“ 

“Yeah, but I don’t even like this show that much—“

“That's okay. Sometimes mindless stuff is more distracting than stuff you enjoy—“ 

“But I was supposed to clean the living room--"

"It's fine, Hinata, we can clean tomorrow--"

"But Kageyama," Hinata whined and Kageyama gave up for a moment.

It was clear he wasn’t really listening to Kageyama, content to bemoan his lot in life for a minute. So. Kageyama let him. Hinata let him do it a lot. It was only fair.

A lot had changed since Hinata got his diagnosis. Maybe not visibly. Maybe not even noticeably to anyone other than Hinata and Kageyama if he was paying attention. 

But it was a big thing. Hinata had already expressed his regrets about not pushing to get looked at earlier in life. ("Would I have been a better student? A better athlete? A better friend?").

He’d already expressed his concerns about going on meds, about it maybe causing him to lose his personality. ("I've built my personality around this 'air-headedness' and hyperactivity, will that all go away? Will I have to reform my identity?").

He’d already expressed concern about how it affects others ("Are people going to think of me differently? Will they stop depending on me? Will they just make excuses for my behavior because my brain isn’t right? _Will they even believe me, Kageyama?"_ ). 

Kageyama had done his best to make him feel better and quell his anxieties, but he knew Hinata would hyper focus (because ADHD) on those things. 

“Hinata,” Kageyama said gently, once Hinata had calmed down some, placing a hand on his thigh to get his attention. Hinata picked up his head to look at Kageyama, his eyes watery. 

“Hinata,” he sighed, “it’s _okay_.”

“It’s not,” Hinata replied, voice cracking “my stupid brain isn’t normal and it never has been and it never will be and I'm just _broken_ , Kageyama.” 

“You're not broken, dumbass. We all have things we have to deal with," Kageyama tried to reason, but Hinata wasn’t really having it. 

“Yeah but not because their brain is fucked up, Yama. And and it’s just,” he paused and took a deep breath. Kageyama could practically see him trying to round up all his wild thoughts.

“It’s so _frustrating._ It’s just so frustrating, Kageyama. And I'm so tired,” he trailed off, dropping his head into his hand. He had started crying now and Kageyama frowned as his heart broke a little.

Up until now, he'd never seen Hinata this upset. This was different than losing Nationals or getting benched. It was different than when his grandpa died or that one time he broke his wrist or even back in middle school after that first game they played against each other. 

No, this was nothing like any of those times he'd seen Hinata cry. This was a deep-rooted exhaustion caused by years of unconscious self-doubt and pushing down any aspect of who he was that made him stand out as "atypical." It was an emotional burnout finally coming to its peak after years of being told he wasn't good enough, wasn't trying enough, and therefore, _he_ just wasn't enough. 

“I know,” was all Kageyama could think to say. There was nothing else he really could say, so he just let Hinata cry.

Honestly, Kageyama wanted nothing more in that moment than to destroy the souls of everyone who made Hinata feel bad for something beyond his control; who made him feel bad for taking the lot he'd been given in life and creating the best possible person out of it that he could. How dare they hurt Hinata?

Kind Hinata, who'd let Kageyama cry to him countless times before and never left his side. Beautiful Hinata, who's smile could part the clouds on even the rainiest of days. Persistent Hinata, who wanted to be the best at volleyball so badly that he went from first string player to ball boy, just to learn more. Talented Hinata, who's instinct for the game is surpassed only by his instinct to unknowingly pick out the most troubled person in the room and make them smile in an instant. Amazing, wonderful, marvelous Hinata, who deserved the nothing less than the whole world.

"Hinata," Kageyama tried, but was cut off when his friend looked at him suddenly. 

"This," he inhaled and looked to the corner of the room, "it sucks." Kageyama nodded. 

"Like. I'm learning so much stuff about myself. About _why_ I am the way I am," Hinata said. His voice was quiet, reserved. Kageyama knew that he needed to wait it out; to let Hinata collect his thoughts. 

"It's great. You know? It is. Truly. Like, I finally know why I might've had trouble maintaining relationships. Or why I crave sugar. Why I get fidgety. I can figure out what triggers my anxiety. Why I've always reacted explosively to things other people react calmly too. I finally understand _why I've felt out of step my whole life,"_ Hinata laughed ruefully. He was looking anywhere but Kageyama, his whole body moving slightly with every emphasis in his speech. Kageyama just listened. 

"But it just _sucks_. You know?" he laughed again, squeezing his eyes shut. "Like okay. Now I know. But it doesn't _fix_ anything. It doesn't suddenly put me in step with everyone else. It doesn't make me any less forgetful or fidgety or inattentive. It just slaps a label to it." 

"Do you regret getting diagnosed?" Kageyama asked when Hinata trailed off. 

"No." His response was instant. "No, because now I can make moves _to_ fix it. And that's great. But it doesn't take away from the fact that I am not normal. And I never will be. And I always thought I was," he looked down again. This Hinata was definitely unlike any he knew. His voice was...sad. It was tired. 

"I worked so hard, _so hard_ to suppress my symptoms. I did it without even realizing it most of the time. So I could look normal. So I didn't get shit on. So people didn't make me feel _worthless_ for something I couldn't help!" Hinata was frustrated now (thank you emotional dysregulation) and if that wasn't evident by his voice, his hands tugging on his hair gave it away.

"The list is endless Kageyama! Shaking my leg when I felt restless. Biting my lips to keep from interrupting people," he looked up, exasperated, " _fuck_ , I mean, pushing off my anxiety until I could isolate myself after getting overstimulated? Spiking volleyballs all night to get out the unexplainable irritability I'd felt all day? Using filler words when my brain went too fast for the rest of my body to keep up, so that people didn't in conversation so people didn’t realize that I’d actually just lost my train of thought in the middle of a freaking sentence! Overorganizing everything after getting yelled at for being too unorganized. Self-deprecating jokes about my own air-headeness. Owning “being late” as part of my personality? What the fuck is that? That's not a personality trait! Like _why?_ Why in the _hell_ did people think that was okay? That I was functioning like a perfectly normal person?" 

"The worst part is," he continued, a sudden, new wave of tired crashing down, visibly deflating him, "I knew it. A deeper part of me I knew I wasn't lazy; that I was doing my best all along. And that _sucks._ It just sucks. Because I ignored that part. I had fooled myself into thinking I was normal. Convinced myself that nothing was wrong with me. That maybe other people had problems. But not me. I was fine. I was normal. I could function perfectly. Years of thinking instead, that I just wasn't good enough; that I wasn't trying hard enough. Years thinking I was trash, just a lazy piece of garbage. All for the benefit of everyone else. All because other people didn't want to see that I wasn't normal?"

"Normal is a relative term, Hinata," Kageyama interjected. 

"Fine," Hinata huffed, "that I don't have a 'neurotypical' brain," he mocked the psychologist. 

"That's just bullshit, man. And it just fucking sucks," he finished. His head was back in his hands and he managed to avoid Kageyama's eyes over his entire spiel. And wow. Kageyama was...shocked. And sad. 

He had known Hinata's mind was always racing. Hinata was always thinking, even if it wasn't always about anything important, and his brain never turned off. Kageyama figured that out pretty quickly after they started high school. But damn. He didn't realize how hard Hinata had been working to control his own freaking brain for so long. How had Hinata managed to rewire his brain without any help? He had taken a complex piece of machinery and fixed it as best he could without an instruction manual or any of the beneficial tools. 

It only made Hinata that much more admirable. 

"You're honestly amazing," Kageyama finally said. Blunt as always. He felt Hinata tense under the hand he had placed on his back. Then he turned to Kageyama, face once again, adorably confused. Maybe his eyes were puffy from crying, face flushed and splotchy. Tear tracks were definitely visibly covering his cheeks. And yeah, maybe there was a little snot there too. But he was adorable nonetheless. 

"Hinata, that's amazing resilience. I'm honestly impressed. If you've made it this far, I have no doubt that, once you figure all this out, you'll be one of the most impressive people alive," Kageyama stated, firm and with no room for argument. He pulled Hinata into his chest and hugged him tightly. Hinata in turn, wrapped his arms around Kageyama's torso and gave in to his exhaustion, allowing himself to lean fully on Kageyama.

"And this time," Kageyama whispered into Hinata's hair, "you won't be alone." Hinata pulled back. 

"Yeah?" he looked Kageyama truly in the eye for the first time since he first got home. 

"Yeah. Because as long as I'm here, you're invincible." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aahahaha what a sappy ending am I right? I hate it I love it. 
> 
> So important to note is that not everyone experiences the same things and this is MY perspective of having ADHD. I am combined type and I headcanon that Hinata is too. Other people are not combined type and therfore may experience all of these things. The ADHD experience is unique to each person. These are the things that I deal with on the day to day. 
> 
> I have decided to make this a series. I'm going to selfishly project onto and use Hinata and his life as my own personal diary. I can't guarantee fast updates. Bc it will be like a diary. I'll write when I feel like I need to. I'm going to try and highlight some of the finer nuances of ADHD in each fic though. Some that aren't very well known. 
> 
> If you'd like to learn more about ADHD, I'd check out the following resources:  
> \- YouTube: howtoadhd (there's also a discourse server if you want to read people's personal experiences or if you're looking for support!)  
> \- Instagram/Twitter: @/adhd_alien  
> \- ADDitudemag. com 
> 
> And fellow ADHDers, let me know what you think! Does this resonate with you? Did I do a decent job? What's your experience? I’d love to hear from you. 
> 
> You can find me on insta if you’d like to DM me to and see when I update stuff: @/ actually_ihavenoidea


	2. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've already read the first chapter, I made some uh, *cough* changes to it. Please go back and read it! (It's a lot of changes. I'm sorry). 
> 
> As for this chapter. Well. I am sorry. I couldn't resist.

Hinata and Kageyama were sitting on the couch, sharing a blanket. 

Hinata felt good for the first time that day. He had expressed everything that was bogging down his mind and Kageyama, patient, kind Kageyama had listened to him go off. He didn't question him. He didn't make excuses for him. He didn't tell him he was wrong. Kageyama _believed_ him and believed _in_ him. That was all Hinata had been hoping for. That eventually, someone would just freaking listen to him. 

"Coach cancelled morning practice tomorrow," Kageyama said, browsing through the Netflix options, "not that you would know, dumbass, since you _skipped,_ " his elbow suddenly dug into Hinata's ribs and Hinata yelped. 

"Ow! Bakayama. I would have had an _anxiety attack_ if I had gone! We get a couple skips a season. Plus I'll make up for it tomorrow when we inevitably practice tomorrow anyway," Hinata shot back, rubbing his side. 

"Yeah, you better," Kageyama said standing up. "We're doing receives for an hour before you get any tosses," he threatened as he went into the kitchen. 

"Hey! That's not fair!" Hinata whined. 

"Yeah, yeah. Well that's what you get," he hollered back. Hinata huffed. (He just _knew_ that Kageyama had rolled his eyes at him). 

"Do you want to watch a movie? Since we don't have to get up?" Kageyama asked, poking his head back into the living room. Hinata perked up at that. 

"Yeah! Make some popcorn!" he demanded, already reaching for the remote. 

"Pft, how about a please?" Kageyama scoffed. This time Hinata rolled his eyes. Then he put on his best sunshine smile and looked over to Kageyama.

 _"Please?"_

Hinata swears he saw Kageyama blush (why would he be blushing?) before he ducked quickly back into the kitchen muttering insults under his breath. He was gone too fast though. He was about to get huffy about not getting a response from Kageyama when he heard the tell-tale signs of a popcorn bag being opened and the beeps of the microwave. He smiled and began perusing the Netflix options himself, satisfied with himself until Kageyama came back into the living room, confusion evident on his face. 

"Hinata?" he asked.

"What...?" (Oh man, what had he done wrong?)

"Why is the oven on?" 

"The oven is on?" Hinata asked, just as confused. 

"Yeah," Kageyama looked at him, "it was preheating." Hinata stared at Kageyama for a second. (The oven was preheating? Why was it preheating? Did Hinata turn it on? Why would he have done that? That didn't make any sen--)

"Oh, fuck!" he finally understood, throwing his head onto the back of the couch and his hands over his eyes. Sliding his hands down his face he said, "I was gonna make a pizza." 

When he heard no response from Kageyama, he put his hands down and looked over to him. Kageyama was just staring at him blankly (man, he's so attractive). Kageyama closed his eyes and exhaled loudly. 

"Why didn't you?" he asked, patience clearly wearing thin (Hinata knew why. He knew he could've burnt the apartment down. He understood the consequences of his actions). 

Hinata pulled his lips into a tight line, eyes surveying the room before landing on Kageyama's twitching, irritated (beautiful) face. Then, he mustered as much innocence as he could (please, cuteness gods, send help), smiled sheepishly, and answered Kageyama. 

"I forgot?" he shrugged. 

The lecture (read: one-sided yelling discussion) that followed was not only long enough that Kageyama let the popcorn burn so he had to make more, but it also wore Kageyama out enough that he not only let Hinata pick the movie, but didn't object when Hinata spread out, taking up the whole couch, leaning his back against Kageyama's side. Kageyama even put an arm over Hinata's shoulders (and Hinata swears that he even cuddled a little closer once they settled). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh nooooo I'm so SORRY. I am. Simply couldn't help myself. It's 4:00 in the morning, we're in a global pandemic, my meds have LONG SINCE WORN OFF, I got 5 hours of sleep last night and I have to get up in 3 and a half hours to go to WORK bc even though we're in a public health crisis, my office is still open for now and I need money. So it's major crackhead hours out here right now. 
> 
> There will be an actual update to this eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos always appreciated :) 
> 
> Follow me on Twitter if you want. I’m always looking for some ADHD buddies and I’m always down to chat :) @/noidea_actually


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